Beauty is

Beauty is the quietness of morning
The silence of the sky
The whispering wind kissing the tree tops

Beauty is the looming presence of the mountain
Its size dwarfing the houses beneath it
Its steep and rocky sides speaking of long memory

Beauty is the single garden rose
Its vibrant pink a stark contrast to the shrubs and palm trees all around
Delicate against the hardier green canvas

Beauty is the sudden gust of wind
The palm fronds violently bowing to its power
Its papery scalloped trunk unmoving and stable

Beauty is the endless blue of sky
The wispy clouds slowly drifting across its surface
Sunlight reflecting off the white 

Beauty is the soaring of the bird
It’s wide wingspan catching the wind
As it glides upwards

Beauty is the solitary leaf
Floating on the surface of the water
Tiny divots where it breaks the surface tension all around its edges

Something in me craves beauty such as this 
it touches upon the longings of my heart
Like a skilled harpist playing a haunting melody
The beauty too pure and perfect for a world as fallen as this
A glimpse of the garden before ever Eve tasted the apple
A glimpse too of the goodness of the Creator
The one who made mornings like this
Who gave me the eyes and ears and spirit to enjoy these things 

There really are not words enough to capture such beauty
No lens that can convey the melody it is making 
But still I write and still I take photos
Giving thanks to the Lord
Who gave mornings and cameras and words 
A God who loves to give good gifts to his children
If only we would stop long enough to see